Jagged Daisies

The blue dress sobbed

above yellow skin.

Even my panties rubbed

wrong. Vases of daffodils

with their flimsy voice of

stay and don’t. My wrist

watch looped through

trumpet vines, hallways

of jewelry, lamp shades.

He fashioned a crew cut,

a mannequin cloaked

in guns. Frost stirring

perfume, nails stabbed

in daisies, I longed for

the touch of dog tags,

slice of muscle. Instead,

the moon slid into

my skylight, unfastened

the straps of my heels.

I fingered my mouth,

dreamed about his tongue,

his staggered teeth,

like pollen and staples.